A Flawless Narrative In His Vision

Discussion in 'Player Stories' started by FutureTeller, Oct 30, 2022.

  1. FutureTeller

    FutureTeller Criminally mad with no batteries

    Joined:
    Nov 7, 2020
    Messages:
    294
    Likes Received:
    97
    ════•●•════
    [​IMG]
    ════•●•════

    Can something be too perfect?
    When the gods guide you to a perfect result, are you not meant to be happy?

    .. Sometimes, it’s easier to keep hurting and treading on eggshells.
    It’s easier to tell yourself you are doing something right, that your suffering had a purpose.
    Instead of accepting that you are hurt.
    And you are wrong.
    Narla is wrong.

    But there is no one left to give Narla an intervention, and that was dreadfully relieving.

    ·•☾ ꕥ ☽•·

    Greygate played its part perfectly.
    Every part of her family played their part perfectly.

    It was impossible to describe her exhaustion. First, words which felt like certain death, then a dozen stings to her very core, her senses were impaled like a pin-cushion. Losses which pierced the heart and scared her to her core, but she had to pay them no mind. Aseisa had answered her every prayer, every hope and every bone she’d offered to the statue in her Hallowed Halls. Every plea and syllable spoken by her broken voice was worth it.

    No one was overlooked, no one was left behind. Everyone had been taken from her.

    Only Fae and her would be left. They were both going to burn bright until one of them was snuffed out and extinguished like a candle.

    ·•☾ ꕥ ☽•·

    Argo, useless as Narla deemed him, played his part perfectly.
    Wilvamair played his part perfectly.
    Naaji played his part perfectly.

    Was there one thing that frustrated Narla more than the plan, it was the part she had picked out for herself. Everything Argo ever wrote was like a silent demand for someone to beat him, and she knew she was so excited to be the first one to beat this blasphemer into the ground and break him apart until there was nothing left of him. He had him right where she wanted, it would have been so easy, if only there wasn’t: the plan. Pretending to do her best was unsatisfying at best, she held back to a degree where the “duel” became a chore. She was so worried she’d beat him by accident, she held back so much- and it did pay off!
    “A good fight,” he called it.
    Nothing had frustrated her more, but she also had to do her part in this. Narla wasn’t exempt from the burden. She bit her tongue when she screamed at him to yield, because - what if he would have agreed to?

    ·•☾ ꕥ ☽•·

    She felt a flame trying to burn her vitality out of her being. Silver ichor flows, pale enough to match her ivory insides. Her wrists were bound by rope, so were her ankles. The pain poured from her back like molten sorrow, from the side of her head.. Everything was very blurry.

    How did she get here? What happened? She opens her eyes to polished tiles.

    The curing chamber, pale light flickers above her, her radiant eyes trail to metalclad boots. She felt a part of herself getting burned away. It wasn’t quite enough to extinguish the flame, but it still hurt nonetheless. The exhaustion likely came from her effort to keep herself together.

    Literally.

    .. right. The plan. Everything was going according to plan, she was supposed to be here. It felt easier to suppress the color of her eyes, containing the glow within, returning her gaze to silver. Pupilless, with a limbus. A Haat’s eyes in the wrong colors. Another poor pretense of something she would never be in her life.. Why did she think of that now?

    They let her go after they were satisfied. Leskensia struggled to sit up, she demanded they untie her - they did. Blessed by the lord of the hunt, she felt that invigorating fury bubble up again. A surge sourced from anger, enough to punch the Augur right in the face after she spat venomous words like a viper.

    “Are you happy now?”

    Are you happy now?

    “I wouldn’t say happy is the word.” He answers.
    Those words were not consoling, those words didn’t help her justify herself.

    “Satisfied?”

    Are you satisfied?
    Are you satisfied, Narla?

    The plan was completed so easily. It hurt when she dug her fingers into the bonework, she felt ready to keel over when she willed her insides to turn red like flesh. But she was strong, she spoke every word correctly, voiced the right complaints.

    And with that, they were off. Angaeminwe took her back home, she spent the evening with her family. Then the next day, the dread began all anew, in fact, it got even worse. Her part of the plan was coming to an end, but she couldn’t find any joy or glee in knowing that. Aimless wandering wasn’t rewarding, nothing was. Everyone was gone, after all.

    ·•☾ ꕥ ☽•·

    She thought she may find comfort in talking to her oldest friend. He would give her the approval not even Roan could offer her, that assurance that what she would do next was for the greater good, or her own good, or anyone’s. He didn’t.

    “That’s a sin.” He said bluntly. He might as well have slapped her across the face.

    That is what he did next.

    “You’ve a responsibility. No matter how hard it gets. To keep the memories of the departed alive and well. Because if you don’t carry them. WHO WILL?”

    .. someone else?

    Aeda will remember Rä’Rith, everyone else will. She left some last words behind, Narla was carrying them in her pocket. A book bound in leather, imprinted with the pattern of leaves. A spear at the center of the cover, it protected written words worth more than her life. They broke her anew every time she read them, and every time she did, she quickly closed the book again.

    ·•☾ ꕥ ☽•·

    Every single one of her prayers was answered. Every hope and even her wish for it all to end would be answered.

    “.. you said you don’t remember me anymore, so- maybe, we could have a fresh start. If you’d allow me to meet a demand you made a long time ago..”

    Their conversation was hushed and heart-wrenching. As much as Narla said she could handle it, Rä’Rith’s fate dragged her down every time. She found some respite in Vanity’s words, every word which broke her was mended by another of theirs.

    .. But more importantly, she received that approval she had been looking for.

    ·•☾ ꕥ ☽•·

    Everything was said and done, every lie has been told, every paper written, every report made. Her criminal record was settled, she’d talked to everyone she needed to. She knew where she had to go. She did, after an argument and notice to a friend. Everything worked out for once. So why was Narla unhappy?

    Why are you unhappy, Narla?

    .. Why did she think back on that just now?

    Narla’s focus fell back to the present. To the verdant green of the Great tree’s leaves. The dark bark she sat upon. Her swimming gaze fell to her hands, pale like the bones they were made of. The small worms which writhed in her cupped hands and dug holes into small animal bones. She’d imbued her very being into them, a terrible choice she’d doubled down on. Releasing all tension in her slumped form, the Scavenger closes her eyes again.

    No. She wasn’t happy, nor was she satisfied. This decision didn’t make her happy, but it was what she ended up choosing for herself. Nothing but dread coursed through her pale blood, she was tainted with bitter hopelessness. Tears rolled down her bonewhite face, running along the tiny cracks. Why did she have to think back on that? Why did her mind twist her broken heart again? What would the others think of her if they saw her now?

    .. which others? Narla struggled to form their faces in her mind.

    Her gaze fell down onto the writhing life in her hands again. She heard they were called “worms of forgetting”.. That name seemed fitting. Innalis’ Ordvaan did not disappoint. Thoughts faintly trailed through her mind, she was slowly forgetting how to form them.

    Narla knew why she had just remembered.. Something.

    She couldn’t quite remember what it was, or why

    she couldn’t remember anything else.


    Because, well, there is simply

    nothing else left

    to remember

    anymore.

    ·•☾ ꕥ ☽•·

    OOC

    My name is Fay F Teller and I despise formatting on forums.
    Also, this is my first posted Player story, I'd love some feedback on what I could do better next time.
    Mentions:

    @dimetros @SuperKamiWarlock @Winterless @PuffyPigeon @Kingdom56 @PapidaCarrot
    Thank you for reading.

    ·•☾ ꕥ ☽•·
     
    • Powerful Powerful x 10
    #1 FutureTeller, Oct 30, 2022
    Last edited: Nov 25, 2022

Share This Page

  1. This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
    By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.
    Dismiss Notice